from Mozart's Third Brain
At night once more the moon's quiet, mystical light
The moon is in the trees in the forest, no wind at all xxxNo one sees it
but me, from inside the sleeping house
Now a light breeze moves stiff leaves in the heat
What does human light have to do with me? Have I
turned away, esoteric; though this was never my choice
I don't know I cannot abjure inner sovereignty
Which is also external xxxI taste blood
in my mouth, on my lips xxWho am I sacrificing?
For whom shall I become an offering? Perhaps no one xxxNot even for that
would I be of any use xxxBut I shall touch you with life . . .
The above poem is from Mozart's Third Brain (Yale).